Adapting A Critically Acclaimed, Classic Horror Novel Into A Movie, And Why It Seems So Difficult.

Hey guys. Or Rebecca. Whoever is reading this. I'm back from another hiatus. I don't really call them hiatuses. I just haven't had much to talk about lately. I've been getting most of my horror fill through watching The Walking Dead on television, and that's been a journey. I've just bought all four seasons on Blu Ray, and I'm going to try to run through them all in the period leading up to Season 5. I've been getting into the mood of reading horror literature for the fall season. The weather is starting to change, the days are becoming shorter, gloomier. What perfect time to pick up your favorite horror novels, put on your favorite mood music, and read a bit!

I will tell you, as a fan of the horror genre in general, I've done my reading. I've read the classics and the not so classics, and the should be classics (seriously, House of Leaves. Poor Tom Navidson). But maybe sometimes I don't want to read these novels. Maybe sometimes I want to experience these stories that I love through another medium: Film!

Ah, but there begins a knot that apparently no human hand can untangle. There have been countless adaptations of horror classics to the screen, from the silent film era to the modern day, and yet, of the thousands of Dracula movies that have been made, almost all of them fail at adapting the novel to the screen. And don't you dare throw Coppola's 1992 film at me. I like it. I like the actors in it. I love Hopkins's portrayal of Professor Van Helsing (HE IS LITERALLY JUST AN OLD, WISE, WORLD WEARY MAN. HE IS NOT A PROFESSIONAL VAMPIRE HUNTER, YOU SODS) as almost insane. But I absolutely hate that Coppola tried to make his own vision of Dracula instead of respecting the nature and vision of Stoker's original classic novel.

I'm sure Leroux would rip his hair out if he had to sit through another adaptation of The Phantom of the Opera that makes Erik more likable and handsome than he should be. The original Phantom is sympathetic, to be sure, but there is never any moment in the story that Christine Daae is utterly infatuated with him and consumed by his sexiness. He's a skeleton man. She is afraid of him. Despite this, I still find myself singing Point of No Return because  it's actually a good song, and I absolutely HATE musicals.

(And okay, I will throw a bone. Lon Chaney's silent film version is probably one of the greatest adaptations of a horror novel, or any novel in general. It's so perfect it hurts. I just wish someone could replicate that for the new age, so new kids can appreciate the horrific real story.)

Why can't we get a fantastic adaptation of Frankenstein? Why is the brilliant Aaron Eckhart choosing to take part in horrific movies with the Frankenstein name? I feel like Shelley has gotten the worst treatment out of all these classics, because most adaptations of her novel in the early days of film always depicted the Monster as some big, speechless brute. Kenneth Branagh did an okay job with his 1994 flick. It told most of the real story, and De Niro was a FANTASTIC monster. His portrayal of Victor's creation inspired both terror and sadness. It was the perfect range of emotion one needed to feel for Shelley's flawed antagonist. Yet, even the respectful Kenneth Branagh takes some missteps in his film.

Is it so hard for movie directors to humble themselves before the novelists and say, "I want to respect your vision. I want every last letter to be emulated on screen so that your already near perfect vision can be brought to a whole new generation of people." These stories are fantastic enough on their own without superfluous changes to the story that change it just a teeny bit. Directors make the excuse that. "most everyone knows the story of X book or movie. We want to show a DIFFERENT side." Except, this is becoming less true as time goes on. No one I grew up with has even tried to read or seriously study Bram Stoker's Dracula. No one has tried to subject themselves to a devotional of Frankenstein, or tried to solve the mystery of Gaston Leroux's Opera House. No one has tried to stay a few days in Shirley Jackson's Hill House, or turn the Governess's screws.

Maybe I'm just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but our intimate knowledge of classic literature is fading. Why aren't kids being encouraged to read more? This is why I feel it is important for respectful, deep adaptations of not only the greatest horror novels, but the greatest novels of literature in general to be created for the public, to restore the entertainment and ethical value of these works. If people begin to make such films, maybe we can point the audiences back to how it all started, and bring about a resurgence in reading the very books that our modern films are deriving themselves from.

Rants aside, I do want to pay my respects to the adaptations we have had of these classic books. Despite their poor undertaking of lifting the characters off the page, they have endeared themselves into the hearts of many, myself included, for the duration of their existence. The Universal Monster movies are indeed the poorest adaptations of the novels on which they are based, but no one can deny the lasting impact they continue to make in the world of cinema. Bela Lugosi's Dracula:  the suave, charming but ruthless vampire. Karloff's Monster, who with his unpredictable nature keeps you on the edge of your seat as you wait for something to go horrifically wrong. Lon Chaney Jr.'s Wolf Man--Lawrence Talbot--who battles his animalistic nature as it slowly consumes his life, and his loved ones. Karloff once again as Imhotep, a 3000 year old mummy determined to prove that love conquers all, including death. Claude Rains playing the scarred and often times invisible monsters of that era, including Erik the Phantom and Dr. Griffin.

Because of the memorable performances of their actors, and the otherworldly set pieces, these movies are what caused me to be interested in the horror genre. I have my father to thank for providing such culture to me, his son. I don't know what I would do without my monsters.

The point, however, still stands. I do not call for the destruction of the old and unfaithful, but rather, I say there should be unshakable respect for the novels that people committed themselves to write, so that they may thrive beside the classics of old. Let's hope we can soon live in THAT world.

A Quick Word on The Walking Dead

As someone who grew up being absolutely obsessed with Romero's Holy Trilogy (later a saga, I guess. Land of the Dead was awesome, I don't care what anyone says), I am naturally inclined to like and enjoy The Walking Dead. When the comics first debuted in the early 2000s, I skimmed through them. At the time, Kirkman was just a guy to me riding the coat tails of the greater genius, George-y Boy. But I eventually grew to respect Robert for keeping the zombie dream alive (and Danny Boyle, whose 28 Days Later pretty much kickstarted the modern zombie craze that still hasn't ended yet.)

Then, when they announced The Walking Dead tv series, naturally, I was ecstatic. I can't help it, I love zombies. And it's been a hell of a ride these four seasons, with tonight's "No Sanctuary" beginning a fifth season. But I'm not just in it for the zombies, or killing them. I actually think zombie slaying is the weakest part of any zombie movie/game.

From when I was young, I ALWAYS understood that zombie movies weren't just about fighting off hordes of Returners. That was just a tertiary part of The Zombie Movie. The MEAT of these movies is all about the characters--what they go through, how living through a zombie apocalypse changes them.

I don't think people who watch The Walking Dead understand this. Everywhere I go on the internet, I see people criticizing The Walking Dead for being such a slow burn at times. The episodes with a lot of zombie killing action are given high reviews, while the episodes with characters talking and doing less exciting things are criticized for not having zombie killing action.

I think this is a byproduct of the modern zombie movie-making machine. Every zombie film you find on Netflix is about a character who eventually becomes a Badass Zombie Killing Machine, slaying the undead left and right with a variety of clever weaponry. It's like taking the formula for a successful slasher series sequel like Friday the 13th where the focus is not on the creeps or the scare factor but the cleverness of how Jason can kill his random stupid victim with a piece of cardboard and applying that sort of scenario to zombies, and while its fun and preposterous, zombie movies throughout their history have been anything but fun.

I just don't understand criticism of a work of fiction for focusing more on serious drama. Not like East Los High drama where it's just a bunch of "teenagers" talking behind each others backs, I'm talking real drama. The moral dilemma of whether or not a group of people needs to kill a character because they may or may not be a danger to their survival. That shit is real. By the way, if you want true horror, try to sit through an episode of East Los High. It's phenomenal how shows like that get made. Absolutely phenomenal. I actually haven't sat through an episode of East Los High, but I would never force anyone else to do so.

I think there is a huge rift developing between the outside world and their likes and opinions and me. I love the Star Wars movies. All six of them. And I like the Clone Wars television show that just recently ended. I hated Frozen. With a passion. Tangled was a much better Disney Princess movie AND experience. Yet everyone else just ate up that fucking movie. Seriously, it was a movie predicated on the fact that every character is dumb and makes dumb decisions but never suffers any serious consequences for their actions.

I am majorly digressing, so I apologize, but do you understand where I am coming from? How can a movie like Prometheus or Man of Steel get made and everyone trash it for being horrible and making absolutely no sense? What cut of these films did these people watch to jump to that conclusion? And why is it not okay for characters to explore deep issues in the middle of a zombie apocalypse without being criticized for being boring? Why is the world so backwards and whyamIsoalone idon'tunderstand.

To really wrap this mess of a post up with a nice pretty bow, I want to apologize and thank Robert Kirkman and the other contributors to the Walking Dead machine for ensuring the survival of zombies and respecting the legacy of that genre and George A. Romero. I may have misjudged you all those years ago when I was a young dumb teenager, and for that I am sorry. Keep doing what you're doing, carry on the legacy and make it more of your own.